Part of McLanahan’s air intelligence suite was the “God’s-eye” view of the area supplied by Jon Masters’s satellite reconnaissance systems. A string of small low-orbiting satellites developed by Sky Masters, Inc., nicknamed NIRTSats (Need It Right This Second Satellite), scanned the Formosa Strait with powerful synthetic aperture radars, then downlinked the information to the EB-52 Megafortress via satellite relays. This produced an overhead image of the area depicting all of the ships, aircraft, and landmasses on the SMFD computer monitor. McLanahan could manipulate the image in thousands of ways, zooming in and out to individual targets or back to get the “big picture” tactical situation, and he could use the real-time image to pick targets to attack.
“The PRC vessels are redeploying their ships,” McLanahan reported. “They’re turning west, trying to get out of Taiwanese waters. Speed up to twenty knots and increasing. Smaller ships are heading forward to take the point, but that big destroyer is still in the lead.”
“They’re not trying to avoid that Taiwanese boat — they’re turning to get ready to open fire,” Elliott observed. “What in hell does Sung think he’s doing? Those carrier escorts will chew him to pieces.”
The secure UHF radio transceiver channel clicked to life, as the encryption-decryption algorithms instantly synchronized the two parties; then, in English with a thick Chinese accent, they heard: “American bomber, American bomber, this is Captain Sung aboard the Kin Men, how do you read?”
“Who in the world is that?” Nancy Cheshire shouted. “The captain of what\'7d”
“He said he was the captain of the Kin Men—that’s the name of that Taiwanese frigate that’s cruising near the Chinese fleet,” Elliott said.
“How in hell did he get our secure UHF frequency?” McLanahan asked. “And how does he know we’re a bomber?”
“So much for communications security,” Elliott groused on interphone. “Typical Navy COMSEC procedures — as leaky as a wet paper bag. Or else this frigate is part of the Navy’s surveillance of that Chinese fleet. Good thing we’re on secure frequencies.” He keyed the mike, waited for the transceivers to synchronize, then responded, “Loud and clear, Kin Men. This is Headbanger.”
“Jesus, Brad! ” McLanahan interjected. “You’re going to talk to him? We don’t know who the hell he is! It could be a PRC tap.”
“There is no way the PRC or anybody else could have broken the encryption logarithm and channelized with us — we only decided on it six hours ago, before we launched from Guam,” Elliott said. In fact it was relatively easy to do with the right equipment. The secure radio system they used simply changed frequencies in random intervals. The timing and direction of the hop was controlled by a predetermined code that only the mission participants used. It was possible to scan the entire radio band and pick up the conversation, but an eavesdropper might only hear a snippet of conversation before another hop occurred. “The only way that Taiwanese captain can be talking to us is if he got the codes from the Navy. Obviously, we’re all working together here.”
McLanahan was not convinced, but Elliott’s argument made some sense. “Tell him to authenticate,” McLanahan suggested. Everyone involved in this surveillance operation, from the Navy and Air Force crews in Asia to radio operators half a world away to the President’s communications staff, used a standard challenge-and-response code system to verify that the other party in the conversation was who they were supposed to be and not an eavesdropper or faker. The challenge-and- response was supposed to be used even over secure frequencies. Either party could initiate a challenge, or ask for multiple challenges, but for maximum security the calling party initiated the challenge. Once both sides were properly authenticated and satisfied of the other’s identity, any instructions or changes to standing orders were followed by a lookup code system, using the current UTC date-time group followed by a letter. McLanahan punched up the current decode document on his computer terminaclass="underline" “Give him bravo-India — response should be ‘bravo.’ ” “Look, Muck, we’re on a secure satellite link,” Elliott argued. “We don’t have time for alphabet soup right now.” Before McLanahan could argue further, Elliott switched radios: “Kin Men, we’re picking up major radar emissions from the Chinese carrier group. It appears you are closing on the carrier group, and the Mao looks like it’s getting ready to attack. What is your status?”
“Headbanger, we are moving to intercept the Communist battle group,” Sung replied. “We will not stand by while the Communists close in and attack our territory. We ask that you stand by and assist us if the Communists should attack.”
“He’s what?” McLanahan retorted.
“Kin Men, we think that is a very unwise decision, repeat, that’s a very bad idea,” Elliott radioed. “Recommend you reverse course and avoid direct contact. We can give you position and status reports. Do not engage that group.”
“Negative, Headbanger,” Sung responded. “My headquarters has recommended that I attempt to keep the group out of missile bombardment range. Our intelligence has revealed that the Communists are carrying nuclear land attack and anti-ship missiles. We are counting on you to provide heavy attack cover if necessary. Stand by. We are launching our helicopter now.”
“Shit,” Elliott swore, “the Chinese ships are carrying nukes” Elliott and McLanahan had both been involved in the China-Philippines conflict three years earlier, when China had set off one low-yield thermonuclear device against some Filipino warships and later threatened to launch another; he had no doubt that China would try it again against the Taiwanese navy. “Til contact Samson. Jesus, Taiwan could be in serious trouble here.” Elliott switched to his number two radio, which was a secure satellite patch to General Samson, who was in charge of the bomber mission as a staff member of the U.S. Navys Pacific Command headquarters, reporting to Admiral William Allen. “Buster, this is Headbanger.” “Go ahead, Headbanger, this is Buster,” Samson himself responded. “Authenticate delta-delta.”
McLanahan looked up the response and read it off to Elliott: “Headbanger has Mike.”
“Good copy,” Samson replied. “Go ahead, Headbanger.”
“Buster, we got problems out here, and I just wanted you to know I had nothing to do with it,” Elliott said, with just a trace of amusement in his voice. “We were just contacted by a Taiwanese frigate named the Kin Men. Its captain is named Sung. He is about to lock horns with Pig One. He claims the Pigs have nukes and they’re getting ready to use them. Sung is launching his fling-wing and is getting ready to start pumping ’em out. Better notify the squids and the dolphins to come give us a hand. We need permission to engage the Pigs if necessary.”
“Repeat that last, Headbanger?” Samson responded, the surprise and shock evident in his voice even over the secure satellite link. “You’ve been in contact with a Taiwanese warship over the secure radio link? ”